The Traitor's Wedding

Chapter Fourteen

Margaery's wedding day was fast approaching. She and Sansa talked frequently, trying to come up with plans for the day she'd escape. The Clegane Lady worried about packing up what would be necessary to bring. She wanted to bring all of her clothes from North, it was most likely going to be getting chilly soon enough. Would she need any bedding? Or food?

Some days it felt like everyone could read what she was thinking or trying to do. Joffrey was in a fouler mood whenever he saw her, as if he could tell she was carrying Sandor's baby. Margaery tried to keep her as busy as possible and offered advice for what to pack. Queen Cersei continued to avoid her, tried not to look at Sansa if she could help it.

And Sansa simply sat and waited and worried. She didn't know if she would ever feel comfortable enough now that she fully acknowledged that she had a baby and husband to protect while she was in a den of lions. She wanted to so badly, but she felt if she rejected the idea, it was like the pregnancy could be invisible.

She just hoped the escape plan worked.

***

Lord Tyrion came around midday, a few thin books in his arms. "Lady Sansa," he said, bowing as he waddled into her chambers. "I brought you some light reading, in case you were in need of a bit of insight with your..."

"Oh yes," Sansa said, cutting him off, nervous to hear him say anything about her pregnancy. "I appreciate your thought, but will these be of any help?"

"They might, milady," he said with a small smile to her. "Any knowledge you could find out would most likely be helpful, as you don't have anyone here that would be open and willing to really help that has had experience with it." She bowed her head and gave thanks. He didn't stay long, but he shoved a crumpled up parchment in her hand and he did leave his reading material behind. A glance at the piece of parchment told her it was a map for their escape. Tucking it away quietly in the satchel she had stuffed in the far back of the wardrobe, she wandered over and hesitantly opened up the top book. She skimmed some of the pages, until she came across one that intrigued her. Expect to be able to feel the baby move within the sixteenth to twentieth week of your pregnancy. I could as early as the seventeenth week...

***

Shae came in one day, her hands full with different clothes and concoctions. She set them on the table, glancing around the room quickly. It was midday, usually the time Sansa was completely alone. Sandor was off, helping set up the Red Keep for the Wedding Feast. Her other handmaidens were off getting the evening meal assembled. "We must make it look as if you're getting the moonsblood," Shae said, looking at Sansa. "The girls have begun talking. They're suspicious. I know tricks to make it look like you're bleeding."

"Did Lord Tyrion think this would be best?" she asked, already walking to Shae without actually questioning the idea. Shae nodded, her eyes focused on Sansa's belly, which was looking a bit more present than usual.

"You shouldn't wear that dress no more," Shae said finally, turning back to the table. "Now, this will take a bit of work, but if you do it while your husband is sleeping and change it periodically throughout the day..." Sansa sat and listened to the explanation, nodding. Whatever she had to do, she would do it to protect her baby and husband.

***

Joffrey stared at her from across the breakfast table, an unamused expression on his face. She had thought he would boast about what had happened at the Red Wedding, but he'd yet to make anything other than a vague announcement to her. She wondered if he was waiting for her to beg him for information. Did he want her to get on her knees and crawl to him, asking and crying for news of her family?